As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I started making a list of all the things I wanted to do (a) before the baby came and (b) before I was too pregnant to do anything. Vacation anyone?
Yup. That’s right. As a new mom-to-be, my first thought was–let’s go on vacation! An amazing one. To Jamaica (my favorite vacation spot and others agree).
In less than a week I had it all planned. We were going to fly into Jamaica the week after Valentine’s Day, stay for two weeks and leave in early-March before the crazy spring breakers got there. We would spend the first part of the trip with friends and family in the city eating all our favorite home-cooked meals and then head to the countryside to spend time with my best-friend, aunt and uncle and then head to my grandmother’s house up in the hills of Portland to pick fresh fruits, go to the beach, visit Blue Lagoon and of course checking out all of the roadside must-experiences like jerk fish and bammy (well seasoned and wrapped in foil paper). *drool*
The second part of our trip would be spent lazing away at the all-inclusive luxury hotel Hyatt Ziva in Montego Bay. We would return home on a Tuesday, and spend that day checking email, doing laundry y’know–getting back in the swing of things. We would head back to work on Wednesday refreshed and just three days away from the weekend (nothing is better than a short week after vacation). Like I said, I had it ALL planned.
My sandy-toed daydream came to a screeching halt with the CDC announcement of the Zika virus which had reached epidemic proportions in Brazil and was quickly spreading to Central America. All pregnant women were being advised not to travel to the Caribbean to avoid exposure to mosquitoes carrying the virus which they purport could cause microcephaly in your unborn child.
Our doctor confirmed this and highly recommend that we postpone our trip or just vacation somewhere else. Somewhere else? NOTHING compared to what I had planned. Plus all of the other things I would want to do were off limits. I’m pregnant so I can’t ski, I can’t go to a theme park and ride the roller coasters, I can’t head into the mountains and go ziplining. Sure, I had relatives in San Francisco and friends in San Diego but the thought of flying 8 hours with my “morning”/all day sickness was not an attractive proposal. FINE. I’d just stay home and save my vacation time. I’ll need it, because my employer’s 2 weeks of paid maternity leave wouldn’t cover the time I needed. Alrighty. My first lesson in parenting. It’s not about just me and the hubby anymore. We have a little one on the way and our number one job was to care for and protect our little bun.
My husband seemed so confident and settled with the decision to cancel our trip. Ugh. With his protective fatherly instinct. He seemed to have no trouble giving up our last chance to have a real vacation before the baby came. I wish I could say I took it like a champ. *queue dramatic music* I pouted, I sulked, I (might have) cried–I was pretty pissed. Then, I got a little scared. Does this mean that I’m going to be a bad mother? Daddy-to-be-of-the-year over there didn’t seem to have a difficult time accepting this decision. What did this mean about me? *queue self-deprecating thoughts* Yes my friends, those pregnancy hormones are real!
As it turns out, my husband is pretty spectacular. After a few days quietly watching me unravel, he casually suggested that we head back to Braselton, Georgia and check into Chateau Elan (where we got married) for a few romantic nights. To my surprise (and delight) they had a pretty fantastic Babymoon spa package. It wasn’t Jamaica, but it warmed my heart to think he was thinking of me. The whole time (I was melting down) he was thinking of a solution, a way to make me happy and for us to have a little getaway. How thoughtful and sentimental is he? *swoon* We were going back to where it all began, to celebrate a new beginning. *sigh*
It wasn’t Jamaica, but it was perfect in its own way.